


i love you only because it’s you the one i love;

by anakinleias



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Late Night Musings, Relationship Reveal, Romance, Secret Children, Secret Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, best fucking friends, celebrating holidays on the wrong date, parenting, social media shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakinleias/pseuds/anakinleias
Summary: A collection of drabbles/vignettes about the platonics.Alternatively: Scott celebrates holidays on the wrong date and Tessa outs their relationship multiple times.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> these are all going to be short so apologies if it gets tiring to read. i originally planned to write them all into one big chapter but i've been at this for 2 months with no progress on when it'd be done so i'd rather publish them as a multichapter. this way i can publish as i write and just up the chapter count in case more scenarios come to me. i'll try to post them 2 at a time so it's less ugly since i personally hate and refuse to read anything under 1k.
> 
> can be read separately but a few reference each other for a bit of self-aware humor.
> 
> tessa if you found your way into an account and you're reading this, imma need you to stop and let me live.
> 
> english isn't my first language so any and all mistakes are mine. this one's for zoe, whose prompt got me out of a writing funk and started this thing in the first place.

“Marry me.” 

It isn’t a question and he truly has the worst timing considering they’re at the podium and he just blurted it out against her skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, arm around her waist and hand rubbing her abdomen as the crowd screams around them. She has a smile on her face and tears in her eyes, and he truly can’t help himself. She’s at her most beautiful, the joy written across her features takes his breath away. 

Earlier they’d sat on the Kiss & Cry, the cacophony of the arena dulled to a roar in his ears as his senses tuned to her and her only. He got to once again hear her laugh and cry at the same time while he held her in his arms, and it felt like his heart tripled as the warmth and love for her filled his veins. He told her – and the media – before that it was his favourite sound, and it’s a sound he wants to hear forever. 

It’s ridiculous how often he’s thought of it; the way her smile would press against his own as he slid a ring onto her finger, the way she’d laugh through her tears while clutching a (sadly big-nosed, there’s truly no escape there) baby in her arms. 

Rubbing her shoulder as way of apology, he steps away to regain his bearing and put a lid back on his emotions. She looks up at him at the exact same moment he looks down, trying to brace himself for her reaction, and her eyes are his undoing. Where he’s trying to be guarded, she’s fully open, her love for him staring him in the face and it almost makes his knees buckle. 

She startles away when she realises she’d been about to answer his question with a kiss. 

A conversation for another time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how i pictured the reveal through social media bullshit, backed up by evidence of ms tessa posting loud shit and disappearing like nothing happened

Tessa's lacing her skates, waiting for Scott who's gone for coffee before they can begin rehearsals for Stars on Ice, and she's feeling grumpy. Even being back in Montreal among her own things and sleeping in her own bed can't make her feel any happier about waking up this early, but she has a photoshoot for BonLook later and this is the only time they could get to the rink. 

"Morning," he mumbles, handing her a coffee cup and promptly planting one on her. "Apparently it's National Kissing Day. Saw it on the tweeter." 

Her bad mood dissipates as the cup's warmth radiates into her palm and Tessa laughs, pressing her smile to his lips. "You mean Twitter? Did you also see that it's an American holiday?" She's punctuating her sentences with little pecks on his lips. "We celebrate International Kissing Day. Which is in July." 

Huffing, Scott grabs the back of her neck before kissing her fully, catching her bottom lip with his teeth. She gasps, and he pulls away. "Every day is 'kissing you' day." 

 

As the months pass with stolen moments on tour, they're finally ready to deliver on their promise. By the time July 6 rolls around on the western hemisphere, she takes it to instagram to casually slip in the big reveal which she's almost sure comes as surprise to no one. They hadn't been trying very hard to hide it by the end. 

It's a simple photo from a few months ago of the both of them in front of the cherry blossoms, lips meeting sweetly as they press their smiles together, her hand on his cheek. They'd taken the usual route during their morning run and then stopped for coffee, drinking in companionable silence as they marvelled at the picturesque scene of the petals blowing in the wind, creating a tapestry above the water. 

After adding the customary hashtags and the kissing emoji, she decides last minute on the caption. Taken from their short dance by Prince, it's a bit of a tongue-in-cheek humour  _'just want your extra time and your kiss'_. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finals are hard but cuddles make everything better

Scott was always the more openly tactile of the two. It's true, there are thousands of videos, pictures and gifs on the internet to prove it. Tessa's always been more reserved with her affections, which isn't to say she's not affectionate, she just likes to keep it private. 

She's 13 hours into writing one of her final essays, posture stiff and shoulders tense as she goes from her desk to the couch and the kitchen table, eating bites between words whenever he snaps her to attention. He's learned to be harsh with her when she gets like this, in a stressed-out trance that won't end until she finishes whatever task she set out to do. 

She woke up at 6:15 in a mild state of panic, grabbing her laptop before even reaching for the coffee mug he'd left on her nightstand. After tidying up the kitchen, he'd returned to bed with her, catching up on things on his phone and organizing his schedule as he went through their joint calendar. 

 

He's relaxing on the couch, watching a game and half keeping an eye on her as she sits at the kitchen table, still in her pyjamas. He'd talked her out of staying awake through the night to write it, compromising that she could spend the morning on it, when he could feed her and make sure she drank some water and went to the bathroom. 

It's almost time for dinner and she's still in the same place since they'd eaten lunch, having moved only for two bathroom breaks and three more to stretch, a half full glass of water with a mostly-empty jar by her side. The topknot she'd put her hair into that morning now sits messy atop her head, wisps of hair framing her face in a way he finds adorable but knows makes her frustrated, glasses atop her nose and steadily sliding down, making her huff every time she has to push them up. 

He's waiting for the game to finish before he has to start dinner, wondering if he'll have to pry her away from her laptop to shower and eat, growing increasingly concerned as the hour passes. The game is 15 minutes away from ending before he hears her sigh, closing her laptop with a little more force than necessary and pushing the chair off the table, padding towards him without her glasses and he knows it's over. 

She dramatically throws herself on the couch, putting her arms around his waist and burying her face into his side. Letting out his own sigh of relief he runs a hand across her back, feeling tense muscles slowly relax. 

Placing a kiss on her head, he motions to get up and start dinner and Tessa whimpers, hugging him tighter and nudging his arm with her shoulder. He chuckles, bringing his hand to her back and rubbing it softly. She hums in contentment, curling up and pressing a kiss to his side. 

Dinner can wait a bit longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote tessa as myself in this (with the 13 hour essay and everything), which means turning into a tightly coiled ball of anxiety and stress and forgetting any form of self care, brushing off gentle concern until i get some tough love thrown at me. which is why i haven't eaten the lunch i was given 3 hours ago until i could finish writing this lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you cass for being an angel and helping me through the romcom bullshit so that i never ever have to watch you've got mail and hate myself more than i already do. tina, as always, you remain the mvp.
> 
> there's a reference to another otp in there, you have the right to beat me up if you find it and feel attacked by it.
> 
> (yes this is based on that one interview.)

They're cuddled on the couch watching Meg Ryan walk into the park, the soft notes of  _Somewhere Over_ _The_ _Rainbow_ playing in the background as she searches for NY152, ready to confess her love to her best friend and take the leap. 

Scott nuzzles her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. "You're  _my_ best friend." 

Eyes wide, Tessa lets out a startled laugh, not believing her ears. After a full minute, the arm he had around her shoulders comes up to run his thumb across her cheek. "Don't look all surprised. You know you're my best friend, right?" 

"Oh, I  _know_ I am. I just never thought I'd ever hear you say it." 

Reaching for her now empty wine glass, Scott kisses her cheek before getting up. "Can't let any of my buddies know, though. Gotta keep up appearances."  

She laughs again, turning her face up to softly press her mouth to his own. He can have his little boys club. She knows the truth anyway. 

He can still hear her laughing from the kitchen. 

 

Scott got upset about the twist at the end of One Day and gave up on his turn picking, proclaiming that he wanted  _one with a happy ending, none of that dying bullshit_. He's scrolling through his phone as she tries to decide on what to watch next, ignoring the dozen new titles added to her list on Netflix in favour of yet another rewatch of Pride and Prejudice. 

The Bennets get introduced to Charles Bingley and Tessa is too engrossed to nag him about not paying attention, knowing he'll tune back in by the time the sequence where Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage plays out. He talks a good game with all his public complaining about her love for the film but she knows that it's his favourite scene. 

Scott hums, putting down his phone and reaching for the remote. Turning off the TV, he muffles the sound of her protests with his mouth. Her arms come up around his neck, hands buried in his hair. His own hands are already busy under her shirt and she giggles into the kiss when his fingertips tickle her sides, the entire situation too much like what her teenage self would fantasize about whenever they'd have film marathons back in Canton. 

Wrapping her legs around him, she pushes at his shoulders and he sits back, allowing her to sit up and quickly remove her shirt. He kisses a line down her neck, sucking on her collarbones as his hands run across her pale back, no doubt leaving his fingerprints branded on her skin. He kisses down her chest and she's grateful for her ban on wearing a bra at home when his hot mouth closes around her nipple, making her gasp. Throwing her head back, she grinds down against him and he moans against her chest, the vibrations making her shiver. 

She can feel the tips of her hair brushing against the small of her back and pulls his arm away from her, bringing it to the back of her neck and grabbing a fistful of the hair there. Mouth still against her breast, he looks up at her. Unblinking, she moves his arm back and pulls. 

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out and through hooded eyes she can see the way his own darken, can feel its effect in the way the hand around her back pulls her down harder against him, where she can feel him hard and wanting.  

 

It's only later that he shows her the meme, after the sweat has cooled on their skin and the red marks disappear from her back, too late to call it night but too early to call it morning. Her head is resting on his chest, fingertips tracing the veins in his arms when he reaches for his phone on the side table. Unlocking the screen, he turns it in her direction so she can read it. 

Tessa's laughing before she even finishes reading the words on the screen, swatting at his chest. "Scott, that's another  _American_ holiday. See, they write backwards, the date is all wrong." 

He's laughing with her now, throwing his phone back on the side table and wrapping his arms around her back as they snuggle more deeply into the couch. Kissing the tip of her nose, he huffs. 

"I suppose we can celebrate again in September." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the premise for this was a tweet that said: "national sex day happens to be the day after national best friends day, imagine having a person u could celebrate both days w/" figures scott would think it's a meme. i've taken out the eventual smut tag because the scenario i intended to write became too long and will be its own fic (sorry?) but there is something extra in this one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's depression hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry. happy birthday zoe(?)

By the time his phone pings early in the morning, Scott's already up. The sheets that still smell like her are thrown into a basket, a beautiful and soft set of Egyptian cotton that they picked together on a delightful afternoon of shopping after the wedding. The set was cream and blue, lively enough for his taste while still maintaining the classy and clean look that she favoured. Favours.  _She's not dead, she just left you._  

He briefly ponders getting a new bed, but that's a whole mental can of worms to open at another time. Along with the one about what to do with his wedding band. 

He has a full day, from coaching duties to a gym session and dropping off the laundry at the cleaner's now that he has nobody to share in the household chores. Scott relishes the activity, hates being idle and letting his mind wander. He's done far too much of it the past few months, going over and analysing everything with a degree of obsessive thinking that would make Tessa proud. 

Picking up the device, he glances at the screen, thinking it's a text from one of his juniors. Instead, there's a reminder on the screen that takes his breath away. There goes his distraction, he'll have to cancel the plans he made months ago for this day, back when there was still hope to try again and their conversations weren't perfunctory and then nonexistent. Back when she wasn't throwing unopened boxes with little sticks that held so much hope in them. Hope that they no longer had, and never would again. 

They must've forgotten to unsynchronise their calendars in the whirlwind of the separation – figures they'd have a hard time not being in sync even after everything fell apart – and the thought that Tessa woke up to the same reminder gives him pause. 

 

 _Happy 25th anniversary!_  

 

Fucking silver. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all can thank my useless friends for not sending me a single good prompt and my neighbor for blasting what's love got to do with it as soon as the sad thoughts crawled into my head. a headcanon from rainy-sunshine kickstarted the depression hour so go fight all of these people.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy (national) selfie day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's for alex. thank you. get better taste.

Scott _"I hate selfies"_ Moir ends up outing them with a selfie. At first, it's innocuous enough. It's selfie day, or so he says, and they should celebrate it by adding another to their already extensive collection of pictures together. In retrospect, she really shouldn't have listened, knowing his penchant for celebrating holidays on the wrong dates. 

The picture could be mistaken for something innocent, perfectly platonic, which is why Tessa posts it. Except it isn't, and people pick up on it.  

They're both leaning against the headboard, the bedside lamp on his side being only source of lighting in the room, which she assumes will be just fine for visibility while making the picture grainy enough to avoid scrutiny. 

The sweat is still cooling in their skin, his eyes look bright and his lips swollen, his hair a fluffy mess from her fingers tugging at and running through it. 

Her own appearance is an entirely different matter: hair falling around her shoulders, mussed and somewhat tangled from the way his fingers twisted the strands and pulled, the way he yanked her head back to attach his mouth to her neck and suck on her pulse. Her lips are swollen as well, visible even through her big smile, and her mascara is slightly smudged at the corners. 

They position the camera horizontally, hiding away the fact that they're as naked as the first day. The picture turns out quite good, if she's being honest. They're pressed together side by side, her radiant smile a nice contrast to his own dopey grin as he looks away from the camera, staring at her. Looks normal enough, if one is versed in the workings of their  _platonic business p_ _art_ _nership._  Scott being Scott. 

If anything, they can chalk it up to practice, and who's to say her hair isn't hiding the straps of a potential top? She's feeling edgy, sex makes her stupid. 

The caption is simple, a succinct hashtag about the day accompanied by their own. 

Social media blows up. Someone zooms into the photo and analyses the background, spotting a button behind them that is identified as part of the headboard and that's already enough to get people talking. There's also the matter of the mark he left on her neck which, while dividing people on its origin and meaning, the majority have decided on the obvious. Conclusions are drawn, the narrative is set. 

Her mentions are flooded with capitalised sentences and keyboard smashes, an outpouring of messages that all seem to spell the same sentiment:  _finally._  

She should've waited for the post coital haze to pass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks a ton if y'all found enough patience in you to read these. i loved writing them, hopefully y'all got some enjoyment out of it as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment between family after the win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can thank virtuesmoirs for this one. I was gonna scrap this entire thing because it no longer fits the fic I'm working on, but she convinced me to use it and make something good of it.

The crowd roars, people waving signs and flags everywhere on the stands, everything a blur of white and red. Elise startles awake, red faced and screaming in disapproval as her uncles yell beside her. Grandma tries to rock her gently, but Alma’s too happy to contain herself, and there’s not much effect. The camera pans out to a close up of their family, and viewers all take a moment to share a pitying laugh as the commentators talk about  _“the only one vocally unhappy with this win”_  before taking it back to the winners, still in a tight embrace. 

Scott disengages from Tessa to hug Marie-France and Patch, whispering thank you over and over, suffusing the emotion into his words. He’s more grateful than they could ever realise, more grateful than he could ever express. For their patience, their perseverance, their support – in Sochi and earlier, when they didn’t have to. 

Turning to the stands, he yells up at his brothers before jumping up as they pull his arms, with more difficulty than the last time; he’d been a lot less heavy then. They pull him up to the stands by the shoulders, hugging him and slapping his back as he lands on his feet, screaming in his ears and he feels on a high. To know that he could always count on having this, on having his mother beside them, eyes welling up in happiness and pride, and cradling his child... 

His very unhappy child, screaming her lungs out in protest of all the noise and motion, red nosed and with tears running down her cheeks, bottom lip jutting out in such a pitying way, he can’t help but laugh. Bending his head, he kisses his mother’s cheek before reaching for the baby, cradling Elise to his chest as she cries in his face. He runs his hand up and down her back as she sobs, laying her chubby fingers on his cheek. It has little effect; while Elise’s body relaxes in his arms, her little head drops to his shoulder as she cries in earnest, and his heart breaks a little. 

Leaning against the railing, he speaks softly to the baby before turning her in his arms, cradling her against his chest and holding out her fat little belly and chubby thighs. Looking down, he spots Tessa laughing with tears in her eyes, Marie-France with a hand on her arm and a big smile on her face. He calls out to her and both women look up, Marie’s eyes inquisitive and Tessa’s smile falling, her eyebrows creasing as she sees her baby’s tear streaked cheeks. He mouths _“it was the noise”_ and her eyes soften, lips turning down in sympathy. 

Tessa tries to make her voice carry up to the stands and over the cacophony that dominates the arena and Scott whispers to the baby, who looks down searching for her. She can see the exact moment her presence is registered, her child's lips going from a pout to a smile as her still teary eyes shine. The big matching smile on her face comes naturally, the warmth spreading from her chest into her entire body as her heart swells with love every time she looks at her Elise’s face. 

Mama fixes everything. 

Tessa remembers the fear of causing her harm before she was even born, the doubt of the existence of any maternal instinct inside herself, the feeling of inadequacy whenever she would leave Elise in one of her grandmothers’ arms by the boards as she and Scott took the ice, remembers the feeling of mediocrity those first few weeks when she could neither skate nor parent adequately, half-assing both and seeing failure at every corner. She still gets hit with those fears and anxiety, changing in proportion as her baby grows and develops personality traits that make her her own little person. 

But it all melts away when her child’s face changes so dramatically just from looking at her. In her baby’s eyes, she’s the sun and the stars.

Elise’s pudgy hands clap in delight when Tessa starts speaking to her and Tessa smiles fondly, arms opening in a beckoning motion before closing them against her own body mimicking a hug, hands laid over her heart. She can’t wait for their reunion later in the green zone. Elise nearly gives Scott a heart attack when she hurls her body forward to grab the railing, hands outstretched, his tight hold across her stomach and legs the only thing keeping her back. 

Tessa starts laughing, pure unbridled happiness coursing through her body. They did it, they really pulled it off. All the stress, the sweat and pain and tears, it all amounts to this moment, the crowd at her back and her child in front of her cradled by her love, their families cheering on as the world celebrates their accomplishments, an entire nation made proud. 

Her gaze switches to Scott for a second and he's already looking at her – of course he is, he never stops – and she can see it in his face too. The beaming pride for all they've done, for the culmination of their career and the result of their love, can see the adoration in his own eyes that she knows she mirrors. 

She motions for him to come down, knows they don't have much time before they need to be at the podium (!) and blows her baby a kiss before she gets passed back to her grandmother and Scott's brothers help lower him back to the mixed zone. She’s back in his embrace as soon as he does, his hands cupping the back of her head as she wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his shoulder, mouthing her love against his skin as her eyes close. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i keep randomly reviving these but this idea wouldn't leave my mind and i've been in a writing funk since my last published work so i wanted to write something, and this ended up being too short to be its own thing.
> 
> big thanks to bucketofrice for being an angel and cheering me on with this. if you squint, this can be read as a companion piece to her much superior work (which you should read if you haven't yet).

She wakes suddenly and for no apparent reason, eyes opening slowly and adjusting to the light from the full moon filtering through the gap in the curtains. It’s a mild night by Montreal standards but Tessa knows it won’t last long, that soon enough they’ll need to pile blankets and quilts atop the bed, the heater on as they sleep pressed close.

As it is, they’re still sleeping close, bodies curved towards each other like parentheses, Scott’s head still on the farther end of the single pillow they’re sharing - her own abandoned somewhere near the armchair in the corner, thrown carelessly to the side when the need for more room in the bed was necessary from earlier activities.

Scott breathes deeply and his nose twitches but he doesn’t wake, simply tightens his hold on the small of her back and her eyes are drawn to his features, the moonlight aiding her as she studies him.

She absentmindedly lifts a single finger between them, a feather-like touch on the skin under his eyes, watching his ( _long and full_ , she notes with a huff) eyelashes flutter but remain closed, tracing down the slope of his nose to the bow of his lip and pulling away when his nose scrunches, smoothing his frown with her thumb as he drifts off again.

Slowly and carefully – she really doesn’t want to wake him, they have quite the busy day ahead – she brings her hand to cup his jaw, feeling his sleep-warm skin against her own, fingertips brushing against his hair. The length reminds her of Korea, of good food and laughter, of unbelievable happiness and gold.

It’s unfair how pretty he is, how he keeps looking younger every time he so much as gets a haircut.

She’s reminded of a side by side post with pictures of him from the same day in Nashville, how much he looked like his Vancouver self and how it had thrown her for a loop. He’d been waxing poetic about their partnership, which in itself wasn’t new, but the look in his eyes and the way he spoke had really gotten to her, reminded her of when they were actually that young and what it took to get here.

Some days it’s truly a marvel that they even came this far, that they said ‘ _screw you_ ’ to the universe not once, but multiple times. Through pain, betrayal, heartache and heartbreak; through blood, sweat and tears, pouring out of their bodies and into the sheet of ice underneath their feet. It’s never been a fairytale, but she can’t deny that happily ever after feels incredible.

Tessa laughs quietly to herself, shaking the moment away. He would laugh if he could read her mind, the immense satisfaction of witnessing her sappy moment would make him insufferable. She likes to tease him for being a softie, knowing fully that she’s just as bad, just not publicly which is why no one will ever believe him.

He shifts, pulling her closer still – never close enough, always wanting more even when he’s unconscious – and she lets herself be latched onto, cradling him closer because she, too, needs him near. She closes her eyes, palm cupping his jaw and thumb tracing his cheekbone as she finally drifts off.

  


**Author's Note:**

> (If you know me from twitter keep it quiet.)
> 
> Title from I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You by Pablo Neruda.
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcome.


End file.
